Reflecting Back on Our First Home

Well, we did it. We packed up and cleaned every square inch of the condo, our first home, and moved into our new little bungalow.

Our first night at the condo will be one of those stories we will never, ever forget.

We had just gotten the keys and stopped by to see our first family home around 9:00pm. It was mid-April and pretty dark when we arrived. We turned on the few overhead lights that were installed, sat down, and leaned against the wall outside our bedroom. At the time, all of the walls and ceilings in the kitchen, living room and dining area were a brownish tan color. Down the hall, the bathroom door was open and the bright lights amplified the vibrant peach walls; making the entire room glow an overwhelming shade of neon orange.

Sitting in the dim lighting surrounded by brown walls, floors and ceilings while staring and the bright orange light spilling into the hallway was more than I could handle. I immediately began to cry. And by cry, I mean bawl. Poor Rob looked at his crying fiancé didn’t quite know what to do. This was our first home. It was supposed to be such a happy milestone. And yet to me, it felt all wrong. I knew how awful I was probably making Rob feel and I was most definitely spoiling the moment, but I couldn’t help it. I kept saying that the space would never feel like a home. He reassured me over and over again that it would feel like home and we would work to make it ours.

We moved Rob into the condo a few days later and the following weeks were a blur. I woke up, went to work, stopped at my apartment to quickly change, drove to the condo, scarfed down dinner, painted until 10pm, then drove home and went to bed.

I always arrived at the condo a few hours before Rob got home and every time I stepped in the front door and walked up the stairs to resume painting, I had to fight back tears. Rob often left the blinds closed in the morning and walking into the darkness renewed the flood of emotions that filled my heart after the lease signing.

We finished painting the walls and ceilings and ceilings white throughout the condo and Rob started opening the blinds before he left for work each morning. By the time I moved in several weeks later, my sadness dissipated and our condo finally began to feel like home.

Fast forward to this week when we made one last big trip to the condo to take out the trash, grab some left behind items, and scrub the place from top to bottom.

Around 10:30pm, when we were finally finished and completely exhausted, we took a few moments to sit in that exact same spot outside our bedroom and reflect back on the past fifteen months. We transformed that dark little condo into a wonderful home; filled with light and love.

As we sat and retold the story of our first-ever night at the condo to ourselves, we couldn’t help but smile and laugh. And a few tears returned to my eyes as we sat in the dark of our unfurnished condo once again as I relived the frustration from those early weeks while we tried to set up our first home amidst the frenzy of wedding planning, blogging, and work.

This past week has been a very similar kind of adventure. Life has been a whirlwind of lease signing, painting our new home, and moving. Rob and I are both surprised at how much easier and less emotional this transition has been. We came to love our very first home together, but something about this house feels extra special. I can’t wait to see what life in this home has in store for us.